work

When I got to be a grown up girl, but not quite ready to believe it, I got a job for the summer. I was in charge of a water survey for the Huron County Health Department. My job was to ask businesses, those businesses who served water to people, some questions:

My training was one day of riding around the county with an Sanitarian Tom, while he inspected sewage systems. “Tomorrow you are on your own,” Sanitarian Tom said. What? My heart skipped a beat. It didn’t know a pitless adapter from a hole in the ground.

The next morning, Sanitarian Ed, a much more compassionate fellow advised me, “Start out at Coral Gables. It’s close by, and the owner, Bill Baily, is a good guy. If you get stuck, you can come back here, and ask questions.” That was before cell-phones, lap-tops, e-mails, or text-messaging. That was back when self-carbon paper was a great innovation. I clamped official looking metal clipboard under my arm and headed for my Huron County Health Department car; a blue Ford sedan; no air-conditioning and no radio. Tax-payers didn’t want government workers to be driving around the county in the lap of luxury.